


Silent Cries of a Lonely Spirit

by quietelysium



Category: Free!
Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietelysium/pseuds/quietelysium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka believed that he was fine alone. He had lived with being lonely for years, satisfied with his own company. The empty twinge in his heart that resulted from his lack of relationships never bothered him. He was fine with bottling up the tears and the pain. </p><p>But when Makoto entered his life, that all changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Cries of a Lonely Spirit

Haruka told himself that he was fine alone.

At lunchtime, he would sit under the cherry blossom tree, the soft grass poking his calves and staining his shorts green and the breeze ruffling his dark hair. He would sit silently and eat the mackerel that his mother made for him everyday (it was always bland, but he never told her). With emotionless blue eyes, he would watch the other students play and shout and sometimes cry.

He never cried. He never cried, even when the older boys came to taunt him. They would point and jeer and snicker amongst themselves, calling him a _loner, no-good child, outcast_. They would push him until a teacher came to tell them to _leave the poor boy alone_. Still, their sharp words were too weak to break the tough shell that had formed over the years. No one could ever hurt him.

No one could ever hurt him the way that his father did. Haruka chose not to dwell on the moments of the past, but sometimes his father’s reddened face would appear in his dreams, beating him, striking him with his belt, screaming and slurring _You worthless son, get out of my sight_ until his pale skin was marred with angry welts and his ears rang. The physical blows never hurt as much as the emotional ones. On those days, Haruka would wake up sweating and panicking and his eyes wet with unshed tears—the tears that he used to cry when the man he called “father” was still there and his mother was too afraid to save him.

He vowed to never again show those tears to anyone. He hid his weaknesses and endured any pain. Haruka thought of himself as unbreakable, in a way. 

* * *

Then Makoto came.

The cheerful brunet found him on one of those days when the older boys decided that they wanted to torment Haruka. One of the boys had grabbed Haruka’s lunch and was holding it high above his head where Haruka was too short to reach. The black-haired boy had been silent and was staring at his mackerel indifferently.

“What do you think you are doing?” unexpectedly came a shout.

The boys all turned to stare at the one that the voice belonged to. Haruka recognized him from his class but didn’t remember his name, though he did remember that the boy was popular amongst his classmates. However, the boy was also smaller than all the bullies.  _What does he think he can do?_ thought Haruka, rather doubtfully.  _Why does he even care?_

The older boys chortled. “Someone thinks he’s brave,” the tallest boy, the one who happened to be holding Haruka’s lunch, sneered. “Fine, we’ll let you have your mute boyfriend to yourself.” He began to leave with his friends, but not before opening the lid of Haruka’s bento and turning the box upside down, dumping its contents onto the ground.

Haruka’s stomach growled as he watched their retreating backs.

Makoto, relieved that they left, turned and grabbed Haruka’s clammy hands. “Are you okay?” he asked kindly, his bright green eyes meeting his sad blue ones.

“I-I’m fine,” Haruka whispered, his throat suddenly dry.  _Who is this kid?_

“That’s good to hear. I’m sorry I couldn’t save your lunch,” the brunet continued, “but you can have some of mine!” Makoto sat down on the grass, opened his knapsack, and pulled out a bento filled with steamed rice and tuna. He pushed the food gently towards Haruka, offering it to him.

Haruka was taken aback by his kindheartedness. “No, you should have it,” he mumbled and averted his eyes and played with his fingers, though the sight of the tuna tempted him.

Makoto giggled. “I heard your tummy rumble, so I know you’re hungry. Eat! Besides, I never can finish my entire lunch anyway.” He held up a pair of wooden chopsticks, saying, “I carry an extra pair just in case.”

Having no reason to say no, Haruka reluctantly took the utensils and sat down next to the smiling boy. “Why did you help me?” he asked.

“Because,” Makoto answered easily, “I don’t like to see people upset and lonely.”

* * *

Haruka believed that he was fine alone. He had lived with being lonely for years, satisfied with his own company. The empty twinge in his heart that resulted from his lack of relationships never bothered him. He was fine with bottling up the tears and the pain.

But when Makoto entered his life, that all changed. They became fast friends, Haruka’s taciturnity a perfect match with Makoto’s exuberance. Months later, Haruka would find himself revealing the truth about his dead father and crying in Makoto’s warm embrace. He knew it was too late to go back now, to return to his past life of solitude and independence.

Nevertheless, when Makoto nursed his wounds and comforted him on rainy days and extinguished all that existed of his aching loneliness, and he did the same in return, Haruka realized that this was what he had yearned for all along.  

* * *

_The end_


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